Sliver of Truth
by catharticone
Summary: What happens after the fall? A bit of Ten/Rose fluff in two chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**_ Doctor Who_ is the BBC's property, and no infringement is intended.

Thank you, as always, to Sonic Jules for support and encouragement!

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_**Author's Note: This is set mid-season 2, because I think a lot of us need a bit of Ten/Rose fluff after the events of "Journey's End."**_

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Running for your life, Rose mused, wasn't so bad when the pursuers were squid-like creatures that set a pace easily outdone by a casual jog. She and the Doctor had put at least fifty meters between themselves and the plodding cephalopods, and the TARDIS was only another kilometer or so away.

"Think we're gonna make it without any trouble," she said, barely even panting.

"Yep. They're not very fast on land. Now, if we were in the water, it'd be a different matter entirely," the Time Lord replied. He wasn't even close to panting; he sounded as though he were simply out for a leisurely stroll.

"Good thing we're on dry land, then," she agreed.

Immediately Rose wished she'd hadn't expressed that though. Why was it that the moment she said something, the opposite seemed to happen? Must be some sort of Cosmic Payback-thingy; she'd have to ask the Doctor about it some time. But not now, because at the moment she had more pressing problems; they both did.

As if in direct refutation of her words, water had begun oozing up from the dry ground. Her shoes made squishing noises as they plopped over the earth.

"Um, Doctor," she questioned, "what's goin' on with that?" She pointed at the increasingly soggy soil.

"Oops. Must be high tide," he answered. "Water'll be up to our hips in about three minutes, and then we'll have to try to out-swim them. How's your backstroke?"

"Not that good."

His eyes were already scanning the area. "Mine either."

He reached for her hand and issued the familiar command. "Run!"

They sprinted, steps slowed considerably by the large puddles and slippery mud. They slogged toward a tall tree about twenty meters away. The cephalopods were skimming along through the muck, their speed increasing considerably. They were gaining distance very fast.

"What happens if they catch us?" Rose asked breathlessly.

"See those short tentacles beneath their mouths?" he asked.

She glanced back. "Yeah."

"Full of electricity. We'll get a very nasty shock."

"How nasty?"

"Nasty enough to stop your heart."

"An' yours?"

"Probably only one, but still, that doesn't feel very good."

They had reached the base of the tree. "Can they climb?" Rose asked.

"Nope. But luckily, we can!"

He grabbed her hips and gave her a boost so that she could grasp the lowest limb. She scrabbled up, using her feet against the trunk for purchase. Her hands scraped against the rough bark, but she managed to keep her grip and get her legs up onto the branch. The Doctor, nimble as a monkey, clambered up with little effort, lanky legs swinging from the limb in a matter of seconds.

"Better get up higher," he advised. "Their tentacles can stretch."

They climbed up toward the top of the tree. Rose forgot how difficult it was to negotiate twigs and leaves. Still, within a minute or two she and the Doctor were perched on a high branch, looking down at the angry squid-like creatures whose tentacles extended up along the trunk, sparking as they touched the bark.

"Can they electrocute us?" she asked, a wisp of fear coiling in her belly.

"Nope. Wood's a really poor conductor of electricity. We're safe up here."

"How high's the water gonna rise?"

"Oh, only about a meter. I think once they realize we're not coming down they'll leave. This is about the time they swim back out to sea, anyway. The krill'll be coming in soon, and these fellows never like to miss a good meal."

"So we wait."

"Yep."

So wait they did. The Doctor told her several interesting facts about the creatures' anatomy and physiology, and then he regaled her with stories of the planet's history. In the distant future, the cephalopods would develop much greater intelligence and evolve into a fairly sophisticated species that would build beautiful cities and be known throughout the galaxies for their musical and artistic talents.

By the time he'd finished reciting one of their more famous ballads, the water had begun to recede, and the creatures had given up their pursuit of the interlopers. Rose and the Doctor watched until they'd glided through the shallow water and slipped out into the sea.

"Right, I think it's safe to get down now," he said, already hopping lithely to a lower branch. He looked up at her. "Need any help?"

"Nope, 'm fine," she replied.

She watched as he shimmied down another few branches, then Rose swung her legs out in preparation for dropping to the limb upon which he'd recently stood. For just a second she hesitated; it was a very long way to the ground. But that branch was only a meter or so away, and it lay right beneath her, and all she had to do was drop straight down…

Rose pushed off with her hands and tensed her legs as the branch rose up to meet her. She felt her heels hit the solid wood, but somehow her shoes slipped (must be that bloody mud, she thought vaguely), and in an instant she slid forward. Before she realized what was happening, her body was plummeting.

She gave a gasp of surprise and instinctively reached out her hands, trying to grip a branch, but her fingers simply brushed over the bark. Wind rushed past her, and her hair blew over her eyes. She was falling blindly, past the leaves, past the branches, past the Doctor—

Abruptly she stopped, and it took her a moment to realize that something had caught her wrist and that she was dangling, feet swaying ineffectually as she attempted to find the solidity of the trunk.

"Got you," the Doctor said.

She looked up, hair falling away from her eyes. His gaze upon her was intent, and the expression on his face was odd—almost pained. At first she thought he'd somehow hurt himself as he reached out to stop her rapid descent. But then he was pulling her up, moving easily as he helped her to clamber up onto the sturdy branch where he'd instantly stretched out to keep himself from falling when he caught her wrist.

Within a minute or so both sat upon the branch, and then his arms wrapped around her and he enveloped her in a brief yet very tight, relieved hug. And Rose understood that his pained look stemmed from fear, not physical hurt.

When he released her, he asked, "You all right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, think so. Sorry. I dunno what happened—"

"Looked like your foot slipped," he replied quickly.

"Thanks for catching me." She smiled gratefully.

"Any time." His smile seemed a bit tight. "Ready to get back on solid ground now?"

"Yeah, absolutely."

He went first, helping her down solicitously even though the branches were thicker and closer together and she really didn't require any assistance. Still, she permitted his actions without complaint, regretting that she'd caused him even a moment's worry.

As her feet touched the soggy earth once more, she took a moment to rub at her wrist. It was sore where he'd grabbed her.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, his brow furrowing with concern.

"No, 'm fine," she replied with a warm smile. She truly was grateful to him for his quick catch, and she had no desire to cause him even a second's worth of anxiety.

They walked through the slushy mud. He was uncharacteristically quiet, commenting only occasionally on the plants and color of the sea. She noticed that he glanced at her repeatedly, and each time his expression seemed to soften a little more. She really had frightened him, and she regretted that immensely.

By the time they stepped inside the TARDIS, he seemed fully himself. His mouth curved into a grin as he closed the door and strode toward the console. She followed him up the ramp, automatically rubbing her hand against her jeans. She winced. Rose lifted her wrist to find several splinters embedded in her index and finger and thumb. She recalled how rough the bark had felt.

The Doctor twisted a few dials and punched at several buttons. "Hmm, she's a little sluggish. Maybe she doesn't like the sludge; could clog up the vents a bit, I suppose."

He dropped to his knees and opened a panel beneath the console. Rose sat down in the captain's chair, wiping her fingers against her jeans again, but of course the offending little shards remained just as they were. Well, they'd work their way out eventually, or else she'd find a pair of tweezers and remove them. But that could wait; the Doctor was asking her to hand him a spanner, and she was happy to help him.

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_To be concluded…_


	2. Chapter 2

After a while Rose found herself on the grating, hands pressed against a panel beneath the console to hold it open while the Doctor cleaned out the vents below. He worked cheerfully, finding this simple maintenance enjoyable. He was chattering on about wires and pneumatic locks and screws that worked using chronometric pressure, whatever that was. It didn't really matter to her; she listened happily, glad that he was relaxed and had forgiven her for her little mishap.

She's been holding the panel for perhaps fifteen minutes when she shifted her fingers around to avoid the growing numbness. She'd forgotten about the splinters, but the change in position put pressure on precisely the wrong spot, and she sucked in a breath.

"Rose?" The Doctor turned his head to look at her. "You all right?"

For just an instant she saw that pained concern again. "Yeah," she replied quickly. "Jus' needed to get the circulation back into my hand."

"Sorry. I'll be done in about a minute."

"Take your time. I'm fine."

He finished soon and eased the panel back into place with a grateful smile in her direction when he was done. Rose got to her feet while he closed up the additional panel. Her fingers and thumb were throbbing a bit, and she shook her hand vigorously in the hope of assuaging the pain. She'd have to find some tweezers soon, because the small splinters were becoming rather bothersome.

"Let's see how it works," the Doctor said, hopping up and gently nudging her aside. He slid his hand over a lever, and a soft wheeze issued from beneath their feet. "Oh, that's not good," he muttered, adjusting a few buttons. The lights flickered and hummed.

"What's goin' on?" she asked.

"Ship needs a quick nap to let the new wiring coalesce—bit like when you study something but can't quite get it and need a little time for it to sink in, for all the neural connections to solidify."

"So what d'we do?"

"Oh, nothing, really. I just need to shut off most of the power—I can leave on the lighting in here, but other than that I'll cut all the power so that she can have a kip." He tapped at several keys, and the lights dimmed for a moment then came back up.

"That's it. Sleep well." He patted the console affectionately.

"How long's she gonna be down?"

"Oh, a couple of hours. She'll power back up when she's ready. She should be in tip-top shape then."

"'M glad," Rose acknowledged, but her attention had shifted back to her hand. She tried to pick at one of the offending little items, but the stupid splinters were too deep to even try to pull out with her fingers.

"So, what do you say to dinner under seven moons?" he asked, spinning around to face her. "I'll take us to Luneria as soon as the power's back."

"Yeah, sounds good," she replied, quickly dropping her hand.

He caught the motion, however, and she saw his forehead crease again. "You all right?" he asked, reaching for her wrist.

She took a step back. "Yeah, 'course. Told you, my hand just got a little numb."

He frowned in earnest, his gaze penetrating for a brief moment. She felt certain that he was using his slightly psychic abilities on her. "Let me see."

Rose sighed and relinquished her hand for his inspection. "'S just a coupla splinters," she said.

"You got these when you fell from the tree?"

She shook her head. "When I was climbin' up."

"Why didn't you say something?"

She shrugged. "Didn't seem important."

There was that aching expression in his eyes again. "Rose, if you're hurt it's always important."

"Didn't wanna complain. I mean, really, it's just a splinter!"

He was examining her finger and thumb closely, glasses pushed firmly up on his nose. He touched the deepest splinter, and she couldn't help but wince.

"Sorry," he said, looking up at her over his spectacles. "These are embedded beneath the dermis. I know they hurt."

"Not that much—"

"Rose, small as they are, splinters don't feel good. Trust me, in nine hundred years I've had a splinter or two, and I do know how they feel."

"I just need tweezers, an' I'm sure I can get 'em out easily."

He looked back down at her hand. "Hmm. Nope, for this Rose, you're going to need a Doctor."

He grinned briefly, but she could still see that tightness around his eyes and mouth. She smiled in response, trying to lighten the mood with a joke. "Yeah? An' where'm I gonna get one of those? We're stuck in here for the next several hours."

He arched an eyebrow at her, responding a little to her playfulness before pointing at the captain's chair. "Take a seat, Miss Tyler. The Doctor will be with you soon."

She huffed teasingly and rolled her eyes but sat obediently, beginning to pick at one of the splinters again.

He waggled his fingers at her as he turned away. "Don't try to get those out. You'll probably only drive them in further." He pulled the sonic screwdriver from his pocket and switched it on to the torch setting before hurrying down the ramp. "Be right back," he called as he disappeared into the dark corridor, the small beam from his hand lighting his way.

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Rose sat patiently, gradually becoming aware of the nearly complete quiet of the ship. The familiar hum was absent; indeed, aside from the lights overhead, she could feel the absence of power, the lack of liveliness. It was an odd sense, and she realized just how alive the TARDIS usually felt. She leaned forward to rest her hand against the console.

"Hope you're havin' a good nap," she said softly.

The solitude was punctured by the Doctor's return to the room. He had the sonic screwdriver gripped between his teeth, the beam rather haphazardly bouncing across the floor to his left. In his hands he carried a tray, but she couldn't see what was on it.

He muttered something incomprehensible around the screwdriver and strode up the ramp toward her. He set the tray on the console and plucked the small tool from his mouth, turning it off and dropping it into his pocket. Rose stood, curious about the tray. Maybe he'd brought snacks; it had been quite a while since they'd eaten.

Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the array set out on an immaculate drape that covered the top of the shiny, clean tray. Instead of the anticipated sandwiches or biscuits, she found several pairs of tweezer-like devices, all with very sharp tips; an assortment of needles, also disturbingly pointy, as needles tended to be; something that bore an alarming resemblance to a scalpel; three little vials of clear liquid; a small pile of fluffy white cotton wool and swabs; a low stack of clean gauze pads; scissors; and surgical tape.

"What's all that for then?" she asked warily. Surely he didn't feel he would require anything other than tweezers for her splinters…

"For your hand, of course," he said, gently pushing her shoulders down so that she was seated again.

"You plannin' to amputate it?" she inquired with a not-completely-unintentional quirk of her brow.

Unfazed by her comment, he replied, "That would be a bit drastic for a few splinters, don't you think?"

She waved toward the tray. "An' all that isn't?"

He frowned. "No point in doing something if you don't do it properly. Now," he slipped on his glasses and reached for her hand, "let's have another look. Ah, good girl, you managed not to fuss with them."

"No. Now just gimme those tweezers an' I'll get 'em out. You don't need to bother—"

"Rose," he interjected, gaze deep behind the spectacles, "it's no bother." His voice was low and very sincere.

She was about to offer additional protests; really, all his equipment seemed like overkill. But then she saw the look in his eyes. There was that pain, that regret, that hint of apprehension she'd seen when he'd stopped her from falling and when he'd realized she'd been hurt, albeit it in a very minor way.

And she understood then why he'd brought half the infirmary out to remove a couple of insignificant splinters. He needed to be certain that she was unharmed, that she was truly all right.

So Rose sat back and did not complain or even flinch as he set to work removing the splinters. Really, he worked so carefully, so gently that she hardly needed to wince. His attention to her finger and thumb was rapt, and his focus was intent, as though he were performing the most delicate spinal surgery and not simply pulling tiny fragments of wood from her hand.

The first two splinters came out easily with a well-placed tweezer grip and only the tiniest twinge of pain. The Doctor's fingers were cool as they held her hand in his, and his touch was very light as he swabbed the two tiny punctures with antiseptic. It stung a little, but Rose simply smiled and thanked him.

The splinter in her thumb, however, proved a rather wicked little devil. It had been driven in too deeply for the tweezers to grasp, so he had to poke and prod with a needle to gain access to the sneaky sliver. Rose twitched once, and he looked up at her.

"I'm sorry," he said in a heartfelt voice. "I've almost got it."

She nodded and remained still and quiet until he'd managed to capture the splinter with the sharpest of the tweezers and pull it from beneath her skin. A tiny bead of blood burbled up. He wiped it away and applied the antiseptic with tender motions then wrapped a square of gauze around her thumb. After he had taped it securely, he shifted his gaze to her face.

"All right?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

He bent his head to deliver a soft kiss to the tip of her thumb. "Model patient, you are."

She lifted her uninjured hand and rubbed it gently through his hair. "Only because I've got such a good Doctor."

He grinned, and finally his expression was relaxed and happy. "Yep, you really do."

Then, for just an instant, the darkness returned to his eyes, and he said, softly, "But I hope you won't need me in this capacity again."

She reached for his hand, drawing him down to sit beside her. "Me too. But if I do, I know you'll take good care of me."

He swallowed, and his grip upon her hand tightened fractionally. "I will, Rose. I promise."

She leaned her head against his shoulder, and they sat quietly in the silence for a long, long time.

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_The End_


End file.
